Duck and Cover
by Shena1
Summary: Castle-esque Murder Mystery... and it's "Beckett Flavoured" too! - Castle and Beckett arrive at the crime scene to the sight of the soaking wet, naked corpse on the living room floor. But there's something slightly different about this victim... COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**The challenge was to try to write a case...**

**Hope it worked. In the immortal words of Lanie Parish: "You tell me?" :)**

* * *

The doors of the elevator opened. Following Beckett into the fifth floor corridor, a look of disgust formed on Castle's face as he looked at the yellow and brown stains coating the hallway carpet in the run-down apartment building.

"You'd think they'd clean the flooring once in a while," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, not everyone can live in a fourteen-million dollar loft in SoHo, Castle," Beckett smirked, passing the Uniform at the door as she entered apartment 506.

"Says the woman who won't give up her five-million dollar apartment in TriBeCa," Castle retorted as he followed her into the cramped living room.

Dr. Parish was crouching beside the body of man, busy making notes about the naked, soaked corpse laying prostrate on the floor.

"Hey Lanie, what've we got?" the detective asked as she snapped a blue, latex glove onto her hand.

"Jack Armstrong. Thirty-two. Apparently, he was found in the tub by his girlfriend. Lack of water in the lungs indicates he was dead prior to being submerged. There's some faint bruising around the neck," the M.E. indicated with the tip of her pen, "so I'm thinking he was strangled. I'll be able to give you more once I get him back to the lab."

Looking down at the body, Beckett added, "Do we know when he was killed?"

"Based on lividity and the fact that the girlfriend said he was alive when she left for a business dinner a few hours ago, I'm placing the time of death between five and nine this evening. I'll try to narrow that down for you after I do a thorough exam."

"Thank you, Lanie," she nodded, turning her attention to Castle who was raising his hand as if he was in elementary school, wanting to ask a question. "What?"

"He's wearing an eye-patch."

"So?"

"Seriously? Kate… look at him! Our vic's a pirate!"

"Really, Castle?" she scoffed.

"I wonder if he was killed because of battle over buried treasure..." the writer muttered to himself as he wandered over to the book shelves.

Beckett shook her head as Esposito approached.

"Yo Beckett... spoke to the girlfriend," he began, looking at his note pad. "It seems Captain Jack here had financial troubles."

"Captain Jack?" Beckett stated with a disapproving tone.

"What? He's wearing an eye-patch," the Latino retorted.

"Told you…" came Castle's sing-songy voice from the corner of the room as he picked up a small silver box off the shelf.

Opening the lid, the tinkling of muzak began to play. Everyone in the room turned their attention to watch the writer - who promptly closed the lid and quickly put the item back on the shelf. "Music box," he muttered sheepishly.

"_Anyway_…." Beckett prompted with a heavy sigh.

"Anyway," Espo continued, "he's been drifting from job to job for months. The girlfriend over there," he said pointing at the distraught young woman standing in the kitchen, "has been the main source of income for the couple for about five months now."

"What do we know about her?" Beckett inquired, eyeing the short, blonde woman.

"Emma Sparrow," Ryan answered, joining the team. "Thirty-one years old."

"_Seriously?_" Castle remarked joyfully as he approached the detectives. "Jack_ and_ Sparrow?! _That's too awesome!_"

He quickly schooled his features when Beckett flashed him a piercing glare.

"Ms. Sparrow works for Dugong Publishing as a marketing assistant," Ryan continued.

"Never heard of it," Castle remarked.

"Apparently they publish mostly nature books," Espo replied, flipping open one of the books that was sitting beside the couch. "You know, like coffee table picture books highlighting the weird and wonderful animals nobody has ever heard of-" he paused as he looked at one of the pages, "-like… gerenuks," he finished as he gazed inquisitively at the page in front of him.

"Oh, you mean those small, long-necked antelope that are native to Africa?" Castle began.

"Don't they stand on their hind-legs when they feed?" Ryan added, smirking slightly at his partner.

Espo opened his mouth to retaliate but quickly shut it as Beckett cleared her throat. The three men turned sheepishly to see the female detective eyes-narrowed, arms crossed against her chest.

"I think I'll just… uh… go canvass the neighbours," Espo stuttered, shoving the picture book into his partner's hands before heading to the door.

"And… um… I'm just gonna go… uh… over there…" Ryan stammered as he quickly deposited the book back on the end table and escaped toward the bedroom area.

Abandoned by the boys, Castle nervously locked eyes with his fiancé and muttered, "Gerenuks are endangered, you know."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Come on, Castle. Let's take a look in the bathroom."

* * *

CSU had already done their sweep.

The bathroom itself was rather unimpressive. Shower-tub combination, single-sink vanity with a round, framed mirror above it. Three rolls of toilet paper were stacked in the stand beside the toilet. Nothing in the trash bin.

Castle pushed the shower curtain aside in order to have a look in the bathing area. The tub had been drained - liquid samples already collected by CSU.

"Hey Ryan!" Castle called out.

"Yeah," the Irish detective answered popping his head through the doorway.

"Did Armstrong have any kids?"

"Uhhhh…" Ryan took a moment to flip through his notes. "No. Why?"

"I know who the killer is," the author stated while bending down.

"You do?" Beckett replied, voice highlighting that she was both intrigued and skeptical.

"Isn't it obvious?" he remarked as he spun around. "Death by Duck!"

Beckett rolled her eyes after peering at the yellow bath toy in Castle's gloved hand. Ryan, on the other hand, appeared hungry to hear more as he nodded his head.

"It's 'Rise of the Rubber Ducks'," Castle began, the story-teller speaking in his most dramatic tone. "Tired of being squeezed constantly and forced to squeak against their will, the Ducks took their revenge against the humans! Haven't you seen_ Attack of the Killer Tomatoes_?"

"Yeah," Ryan muttered, completely rapt. "A real cautionary tale…"

Beckett didn't even attempt to mask the long, indignant huff that escaped her mouth. "I feel like I'm in a bad sitcom," she muttered, leaving the bathroom.

* * *

**Trinxy challenged me to write a fic involving a rubber duck and a pirate...**

**So there you go... Judge away. :P**

**xxxxx**

**I was originally planning to let this sit as a one-shot... but I think I might be able to string together a few more chapters. Just be patient with me. Real Life is keeping me extremely occupied at the moment.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who read the previous chapter, and big hugs to those who reviewed.**

**You're all awesome! **Muah****

**Managed to find a bit of time to distract myself by writing... and as always, it poured out all at once.**

**So the case continues...**

* * *

"Hey."

Beckett turned to look up as Castle approached. She couldn't help but grin as he placed her blue mug on her desk, the enticing scent of coffee permeating into the air.

"Thank you," she smiled as she lifted the coffee to her lips, relishing the warmth and the caffeine.

His heart began to palpitate as he watched her lick her lips, eyeing him seductively. He gulped slightly. God… she loved to tease him. And she was so damn good at it. He took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse, choosing to focus on the case rather than her luscious mouth.

"The boys call with anything new?" he exhaled.

"Yeah," she said, facing the relatively blank murder board. "From his canvass of the neighbours, Espo discovered that Emma and Jack had only been together for about six months."

"Let me guess. Emma had been paying all the bills."

"Looks that way. Jack's employment history was erratic over the past five months. He drove for a limousine service for a few weeks, was a security guard for about a month, and even tried his hand at bartending for a short stint. But for the past five weeks, he doesn't seem to have any sort of employment history at all."

Castle took a moment to study the DMV picture of Jack Armstrong. "I wonder what he'd been doing for the past month…"

"I might be able to answer that." The writer and his partner turned to face Ryan as the Irish detective approached, holding up a manilla folder. "For the past four weeks, our vic had been working off the books for Star Parties Incorporated."

"Isn't that the company that sends actors to kids' birthdays when they're having a theme party?" Castle verified as Beckett listened intently.

"The very same," Ryan noted, opening the folder. "Your kid a Disney fan? One call to Star Parties and Belle will show up at your door. Any fans of _Pirates of the Caribbean?..." _he continued, slapping a picture on the white board beside the DMV photo of the victim.

"You're kidding me!" Beckett exclaimed.

"Nope," Ryan smirked.

Castle couldn't contain his glee as he stared at the photo. "_He really was Captain Jack!"_

"Yep," Ryan nodded as the three of them looked at the picture. There was Jack Armstrong, hidden behind lots of heavy eye make-up, a stringy beard, dreadlocks, and a ragged hat. "Our vic was the go-to Captain for the Pirate parties."

Beckett shook her head slightly, processing the information, before turning to face Ryan. "Okay. Dig up whatever you can on his employment with Star Parties, particularly what houses he worked at as the Pirate King."

"On it," Ryan affirmed as he returned to his desk.

"Captain Jack wasn't a king, you know," Castle quipped, "but if you want to reference Gilbert and Sullivan now..."

"Shut up."

"Gotcha."

They silently stared at the murder board for a moment before Castle spoke again.

"You thinking he might have been killed by someone who hired him as the evening's entertainment?" Castle inquired.

"It's a possibility," she stated as her cell phone chimed.

"I wonder why he wore the eye patch," Castle muttered to himself as Beckett opened up the text. "Captain Jack Sparrow didn't wear an eye patch."

"Maybe he thought it made him look dashing," she answered, focusing on her text message.

"You saying I should start wearing an eye-patch, Beckett?" he smirked.

"Only if you get a skull and crossbone tattooed on your chest," she scoffed, meeting his glare with a smug look on her face.

"That settles it. No eye-patch for me," he asserted, turning his gaze back to the murder board.

Looking down to put her phone back in her pocket, Kate practically jumped as Castle suddenly declared, "Why didn't I see it before? It's so obvious!"

Beckett shot a glance at her fiancé. "What is?!"

"Why Jack was killed," he stated flatly. Beckett simply raised her eyebrows inquisitively, waiting for the inevitable punch line. "Rival pirate crew was after a hidden treasure map."

"Seriously, Castle? A rival pirate crew?!" she retorted, sarcasm oozing from her voice. "In Manhattan?"

"I think they're called Wall Street executives now…" Castle teased.

Beckett rolled her eyes as she bit her lip in an effort to refrain from giggling. "Come on, Castle," she sighed, sliding her arm into the sleeve of her coat. "Lanie's got something for us."

* * *

Just before pushing through the swinging doors to enter the examination room of the morgue, Beckett swiveled, pushing her finger into Castle's chest. Hard.

"No pirate jokes, Castle. I'm warning you."

"Awww, come on Kate. This is too good to-"

"Castle." Her voice deep, her eyes serious. He grinned slightly, eyes twinkling. "Okay, fine. Get it out of your system now, but I don't want to hear any more puns once we're back at the precinct."

"Okay… but you drive a hard b_arrrrr_gain," he smirked, shooting Beckett a sideways glance as she pushed through the double doors, shaking her head.

The writer followed her into the room as Beckett sighed a greeting. "Hey Lanie. What'cha find?"

"A few things actually," replied the M.E. as she adjusted the overhead lamp. "Take a look at his chest…"

"Treasure chest?" Castle quipped.

If looks could kill, he just earned one from Lanie. "Really, Castle?"

"Beckett said I could," he noted in self-defense.

Beckett shrugged her shoulders as she shook her head as if to say: _'I tried.'_ Lanie took a deep breath and continued.

"As I was saying… take a look at his… upper body," she re-positioned the light, shooting Castle a knowing glare. "The perimortem bruising on his sternum and abdominal area indicates he was hit with something heavy prior to his death. He was also strangled with something. I found these fibers," she noted, handing the detective an evidence bag containing a few red stands.

"Send them to the lab," Beckett nodded pensively, returning the bag to the M.E. "Anything else?"

"Yep. I swabbed-"

"The deck?"

"Castle!" Lanie retorted.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist," he smiled.

"Girl, I'm gonna smack him."

"Go ahead," Beckett remarked, flashing a grin to tease her fiancé.

Lanie exhaled slowly. "I swabbed his mouth. Discovered saccharum residue."

"He was chewing on sugar cane before he died?" Castle remarked. "Why?"

"Hey," Lanie scoffed, holding up her hands, "that's up to you guys to figure out."

Beckett interrupted, giving the corpse a once-over. "Is that all?"

"Saved the best for last," Lanie said, moving around the table to stop at the head. "Decided to have a look at his eye-"

"His _aye_?" Castle teased.

Beckett rolled her eyes as she shot Lanie a look that said: _'Please ignore him.'_ Lanie just continued as though nothing had been said. "But when I lifted the patch, instead of an eye, I found this in the empty socket." She held up an evidence bag containing a solitary gold coin.

"He really_ did_ have buried treasure!" Castle gasped excitedly.

"You don't know the half of it," Lanie grinned. "After giving him a thorough exam, I found more of them," she said, holding up a bag with at least 10 more coins.

"He didn't…" Beckett murmured.

"Oh, he did," Lanie nodded gleefully. "He had booty in his booty!"

"Dude!" Castle exclaimed, looking at Armstrong's pale face, "That is so _off-the-hook!"_

* * *

**Castle and Pirates?... Yeah, I couldn't help myself from incorporating as many stupid puns as possible.**

**Sorry... (but not really - hehehe) :)**

**Hope to write another chapter soon - hopefully RL will cooperate.**

**Judge away! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I truly didn't expect to write the next chapter this soon.**

**But here you go... the mystery of the murdered pirate continues. :)**

* * *

Beckett and Castle exited the elevator. Ryan was writing something on the murder board as they approached her desk.

"Hey, find out anything about Armstrong's work history?"

"Yeah," Ryan nodded as he finished scrawling with the dry-erase marker. "Most of the parties Jack worked weren't all that impressive - kids birthdays in the Bronx and some over in Brooklyn, but one address popped. He worked a 60th birthday party at a Luxury condo on the Upper West Side two weeks ago." He paused his dialogue to post a photo on the board. "The condo belongs to one Emerson K. Vanderhall."

"The media mogul?" Castle verified.

"That's the one," Ryan nodded.

"He owns half the publishing houses and ad corporations in Manhattan," Beckett noted. "What's a billionaire business man doing hiring a pirate for his birthday party?"

"Because Armstrong wasn't a pirate at this party. He was working as part of the evening's serving staff. No costume. It was the only time in his history with Star Parties that he didn't work as Captain Jack."

"Was this common practice with other actors on staff?" Beckett inquired.

"Apparently everyone else played multiple characters. Jack was the only staff member who only ever played one character," Ryan remarked.

"So why this time?" Beckett murmured to herself. "Why break character? Why was this job different?"

"Maybe…" Castle started as the detectives turned to face him.

Castle furrowed his brow. "Nahhh… I got nothing," he sighed heavily, evidently disappointed in himself.

The three of them studied the murder board for a few minutes before the silence was broken.

"Yo! I got something."

They all turned their heads simultaneously to face the approaching Latino detective.

"The coins that Lanie recovered from our vic were Italian Florins, circa 1330. There were 13 coins in total, each worth about $200," Espo stated.

"That's it?" Castle huffed indignantly. "Armstrong was beaten, strangled, and then drowned… all for $2600 in old gold coins? It doesn't make any sense."

"People have killed for a lot less," Ryan countered.

"Nope. Not buying it," Castle stated, shaking his head. "Something else was going on."

"Don't know what to tell you, Bro. There's no evidence to indicate anything different. According to the girlfriend, nothing was missing from the apartment. It's gotta be about the coins."

Castle turned to look at Beckett. "Are we sure nothing else was missing from the apartment? Maybe Ms. Sparrow isn't telling us everything."

Beckett considered Castle's statement for a moment while the boys observed her in silence, awaiting their marching orders.

She released a short breath before muttering. "I'm also finding it hard to believe that he was killed in such a brutal manner over a few thousand dollars... Okay," she stated firmly, turning to look at the detectives, "you guys head back to the apartment and give it another sweep. It's possible we missed something."

"You got it," Espo affirmed before he and Ryan headed towards the elevator.

Beckett looked back at Castle who was studying the murder board.

"You know what I don't get," he muttered.

She was almost afraid to ask. "What?"

"Why would he have been chewing sugar cane? Nobody does that unless you're in the middle of the jungle. _OOOOH!_ Maybe he was an undercover CIA agent who infiltrated a major Brazilian Cartel only to discover that they had been smuggling raw sugar into the US via theme parks in an effort to saturate the market, driving down the price of sugar, causing the collapse of American international trade relations and the fall of the US economy!"

Castle looked over at Beckett to see her eyes locked on the murder board, arms crossed.

"You know what I don't get, Castle?"

"What?"

"Why you're still talking."

"Shutting up."

* * *

Ryan finished flipping through the pages of _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ and replaced the novel on the side table while Esposito slowly studied the room.

"Man, why is it that we always get stuck reworking the crime scene just before it's time to clock out?"

Esposito smirked a bit without looking at his partner. "Plans with the missus?"

Ryan let out a deep sigh as he lifted some papers off the desk and began to sift through them. "Yeah. We were supposed to go out for dinner. Figured we should get in as much time together, just the two of us, before the baby arrives."

"Good idea," Espo remarked with a slight chuckle, eyes sweeping over the rack of DVDs, "cuz once little Ryan arrives, say goodbye to your sex life."

"Huh?" Ryan looked up, worry lacing his face.

"Oh yeah, Bro. It's a well-known fact. Romance in marriages totally dies once a kid comes into play."

"Not true," Ryan countered as he lifted the corner of a picture frame from the wall to check behind it. "According to an article in_ Psychology Today_, many couples become happier once they have children."

"Dude. You read _Psychology Today_?" Esposito stated, raising an eyebrow.

"I was in the waiting room at the dentist and…" the Irish detective justified as he looked up to see the smirk on his partner's face. "Whatever. I'm gonna go sweep the bedroom."

Grinning, Espo withheld his snicker as he watched Ryan head down the short hallway.

* * *

"Beckett, it's almost 9:00pm. Maybe we should call it a night."

The detective looked up from her computer monitor to meet Castle's gaze. He was evidently tired and hungry, and truth be told, so was she.

"Okay Castle," she acquiesced. "Let's go home. Fresh start in the morning."

"Can we stay at your place tonight?"

"Avoiding Pi?" Kate teased as she neatly stacked the case files and placed them carefully on the corner of her desk.

"Damn straight," he murmured flatly. Releasing a sigh, he picked up Beckett's coat off the back of her chair. "Wanna get some take-out?"

"Sure," she smiled, sliding on her arms into the sleeves of her coat as Castle held it up behind her. "Just as long as it's not from a 'Jack-in-the-Box'..."

He couldn't help grinning to himself as her followed her to the elevator.

* * *

"You find anything yet, Bro?"

"Nah…" Ryan called from inside the bedroom, "other than the fact that this guy really needed to wash his bed linen once in a while…"

_"Dude!_" Espo shouted from the living room.

"Hey! You asked!"

Espo rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

"What about you," Ryan's voice echoed. "Any luck?"

"Nah. Dude had crappy taste in music," he remarked as he put a CD back on the shelf, "and really needed to upgrade his sound system. Other than that…" he sighed.

"Let's give it another half hour and then call it quits."

"Sounds good to me, Bro," the Latino nodded as he looked behind the fake ficus next to the TV.

Ryan glanced at his partner after stepping into the hall. "I'm gonna sweep the bathroom one more time."

Espo nodded as he turned his attention to the bookshelf.

* * *

An array of half empty chinese cartons lay strewn across the coffee table as Beckett lay curled up on her couch, head on Castle's lap. She was completely relaxed as she relished the sensation of Castle's fingers carding through her silky hair.

"I can understand it, you know," she murmured softly, eyes closed as she melted under his touch.

"Hmmmmm?..." her partner hummed inquisitively.

"Our vic. His willingness to take even the most menial of jobs. A week of being unemployed was enough to drive me up the wall. I can't imagine what it would be like for five months!"

"You think that's why he got killed? One of those menial jobs?"

"Maybe…" she shrugged. "I dunno. All I know is that boredom and lack of income is enough to make anyone do something they swore they'd never do."

"Don't worry, Kate," he joked. "If you really needed the money, you could always sell your body."

"Sure, Castle," she agreed, "but only one problem."

"What's that?" he swallowed as she turned herself to face him, her hands seductively playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"I don't think you could afford me," she smirked sensually, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as she eyed his mouth.

She felt his palms slide along the side of her waist, pulling her tight against his body. "Put it on my tab," he breathed as he crushed his mouth against hers, hot and hungry, one hand curling around the back of her head.

A moan escaped the back of her throat as she tasted the inside of his mouth, caressing the side of his face with her soft fingers.

Castle leaned forward, pushing himself against his fiancée, pressing the small of her back onto the seat of the couch, lips locked together. She released a deep sigh as she felt his lips and teeth nibble at her neck, his warm hands snaking underneath her shirt, wrapping themselves around her heaving stomach.

Pulling his shirt loose from his jeans, her fingers began to clumsily work at the buttons, revealing his strong pectoral muscles. She leaned forward to kiss the centre of his chest - where the bullet had impacted a few weeks ago. The welt was gone, but the invisible marks that unified them would forever remain.

She pulled her head back to lock her hazel eyes with his blue ones - now dark and aroused.

Her fingers unconsciously came to rest against his heart as his own feathered across the scar between her breasts. They stared at each other for a moment. They didn't need to say a word.

Castle began to slowly, seductively inch his mouth towards hers when he was halted by the reverberating jingle of her cell phone. His lips by-passed hers as he drove his head straight into the couch cushions. Beckett threw her head back against the couch, sighing heavily, equally frustrated.

She didn't even look at her phone as she reached over to pick it up off the coffee table, bringing it to meet her ear, eyes closed. "Beckett," she breathed.

"Hey, it's Ryan."

_'That man must have some kind of radar,' _Castle thought to himself as he attempted to calm his erratic breathing. _'Always manages to kill the mood. Every. Single. Time.'_

"Finished our sweep of the vic's apartment. And we found something."

* * *

**I was reading my book club novel... but then an idea for the chapter popped into my brain...**

**And I had to write it right away or it would gnaw at me.**

**Which resulted in word vomit... :) **_ (Expression: to have words pour out extremely quickly)_

**xxxxxxx**

**Thanks to Trinxy for giving it a once-over.**

**So there you go... Judge away. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Castle said that you never know when inspiration might strike. Mine apparently strikes on Monday nights about 3 hours before ****_Castle_**** airs. ;)**

xxxxxxxx

**Some reviews noted that this fic was like reading an episode. That's extremely flattering - thank you. I'm trying my best.**

**If that's the case, commercial break is over. We now return to your regularly scheduled "program". :)**

* * *

_"Castle…"_

The writer blinked his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the warm sunlight peeking through her bedroom window.

_"Castle…"_

_"Mmmmm,"_ he hummed, the seductive aroma of cappuccino filling his nostrils. "Best way to wake up. The wonderful scent of coffee coupled with the sexy voice of my fiancée."

"I'll remember that the next time you want to have good morning sex," Kate smirked, sitting down on the mattress beside him, lifting the mug to her lips.

"Tease."

"You know it."

He squinted feebly, coaxing his eyes open. "You're dressed," he muttered, a slightly dismayed looked on his face.

"You sound so disappointed."

"Maybe I am…" he teased, his finger inching its way across her abs, seductively feathering her waist.

"No time for that, Castle," she scoffed, slapping his hand playfully. "We gotta get going."

"What time is it?" he mumbled, throwing the sheets aside, swinging his legs off the bed.

"6:00am…" she grinned, rising from the bed and heading into the livingroom. "Now get dressed. We've got a murder to solve."

"_Curse you, Ryan…_" he huffed under his breath as he shuffled towards the bathroom.

* * *

"Nice of you to finally join us," Espo grinned as Beckett and Castle approached the murder board.

"Yeah, well, some us aren't really morning people," Beckett retorted. "And by some of us, I mean Castle," she nodded her head to the side, indicating her partner.

"Hey!" Castle exclaimed defensively before he shrugged. "Ah, well, that's true."

Beckett smiled to herself as she quickly steered the conversation back to the case. "So what did you guys find?"

"Remember how Jack's girlfriend said nothing was missing from the apartment?" Ryan began.

"Yeah."

"That was true," he confirmed. Beckett shot him an unimpressed yet playful glare, a smirk tugging on her lips as she shook her head.

"However," Espo continued, "she neglected to mention the new arrivals."

"_New arrivals_?" Castle repeated.

"You should've taken a closer look in that music box, Bro. Found these inside." Esposito held up an evidence bag containing two emeralds, each about the size of a quarter.

"Now how did our impoverished Pirate Captain get his hands on _these_?" Castle inquired, lifting the bag to admire the gems.

"Probably not legally," Ryan answered, "cuz we also found this." He slapped up a picture of a key on to the murder board."

"A key?" Beckett asked. "What's it for?"

"Not sure yet, but that's not the interesting part," Espo remarked. "What's interesting is where we found it."

"Where?" Beckett encouraged.

"Inside the rubber duck," Ryan smiled.

"_WHAT?!_" Castle exclaimed. _"It really was Death by Duck?_"

Beckett rolled her eyes.

"No… he was definitely beaten and strangled," Ryan reiterated, "but it seems as though Emma Sparrow might not have been completely honest with us after all."

Beckett narrowed her eyes as she gave the boys their next task. "Bring her in."

* * *

Beckett smiled as she observed the master at work. Steam rose from the espresso machine as Castle frothed the milk for the lattes.

"So what do you think those emeralds are worth?" Castle asked while he added a shot of vanilla to the froth.

"Not sure. The appraiser said he'd be able to give me an idea of their value shortly," she noted as the author turned to hand her a mug. "They could even be fake."

Castle shook his head. "Nope. Can't be."

"Why not?"

"We already had a case involving fake jewels. The Blue Butterfly filled that quota. These ones gotta be real," he smirked as he nonchalantly took sip of his coffee.

Beckett bit the inside of her cheek to suppress her amusement, a slight grin escaping her lips. "Castle-logic at its finest."

Castle couldn't help but smile back, his eyes warm and playful. Yeah, he was ridiculous at times, but he was hers, and she loved him.

She was woken from her reverie as her phone buzzed. She didn't even have a chance to check the text message when Captain Gates entered the break room and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "So what's the latest on the Armstrong case?"

Beckett straightened herself instinctively. "Upon a second sweep of the apartment they found a few things that didn't add up. Esposito and Ryan are bringing in the girl friend as we speak."

"Excellent work, Detective. Keep me apprised."

"Yes Sir," Beckett nodded as Gates left the room.

"What was that about?" Castle queried as his eyes followed Gates back to her office.

"She's just checking on us…" she snickered. "Making sure we're behaving appropriately."

"Oh, I can understand that," Castle teased, wiggling his eyebrows. "I'm sure it's taking everything in you not to jump me right now."

"You wish," Kate said flatly, rolling her eyes as she got up to return to her desk.

"Yes I do, Detective. And quite often too," he smirked as he followed her into the bull pen..

"Huh…." she muttered, finally checking the text as they approached the murder board. "Turns out those emeralds were real after all, Castle. Apparently they were both 5-carats… the appraiser estimated them to be worth about $75,000…"

Castle's jaw dropped slightly as he eyed the photo of the jewels that was hanging on the murder board.

"...each," she concluded.

"Jack, you ol' sea dog," Castle muttered, glancing at the photo of the victim. "You were holding out on us after all." He paused a moment before asking, "You think he stole them?"

"I dunno," Beckett replied, turning to look at the elevator as it dinged. "But I think we're about to find out," she noted as she watched the boys escort Emma Sparrow into Interrogation Room One.

* * *

Emma was very nervous as the two male detectives stared at her from across the table. "Why am I here?"

"Have you ever seen this before?" Ryan inquired, flopping a picture of the key down on to the table."

Emma leaned over to glance at it. "No. Should I have?"

"Really..." Esposito glared, eyes piercing. "What about these?" He removed a photo from his folder and slid it across the surface, placing it in front of her.

Emma's eyes widened immensely as she stared at the green emeralds in the picture. "They're gorgeous."

"We found them in your apartment," Ryan remarked.

"You….. _what_?" she sputtered.

"Yeah," Espo added, slight sarcasm lacing his voice. "Safely tucked into that little music box that was sitting on your shelf. Now you wanna try telling me you didn't know they were in there?"

"I didn't! I swear!" Emma protested.

"You wanna know what I think?" Ryan began. "I think you knew Jack had those jewels and you wanted them, but you didn't know where he hid them. You were searching the apartment when he came home."

"No…"

"He surprised you," Espo continued. "He grabbed you, demanded to know what you were doing. You struggled, got away, grabbed a baseball bat and swung at him trying to defend yourself."

"No, no…" Emma shook her head.

"But when he started to get up, you grabbed a scarf and choked him," Ryan added, leaning forward.

"_NO! I WOULD NEVER HURT JACK!_" Emma insisted. "I... I loved him!"

The detectives sat quietly for a moment.

"And I was at a business dinner that night. I wasn't even home..." Emma muttered, a tear running down her cheek. "If I'd only been home..."

* * *

"Struck out with the girlfriend?" Beckett inquired as the boys approached her desk.

"Yeah," Espo sighed. "Lanie just confirmed that Armstrong was most likely killed between 6 and 8pm, and Sparrow was at that business dinner between 5 and 9pm. Five other people were at that meeting. Her alibi's solid."

"We may not know who the killer is," Castle remarked from his chair, eyes locked on his phone, "but I think I solved the mystery of the matching emeralds!"

"Really?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, check it out," he stood up. "There was a theft at The Met last week. According to this article in _The Ledger_, the eyes were stolen from a statue that was one piece of a temporary exhibit that was on loan from a private collector in France."

Ryan rushed over to his computer as Beckett followed up. "Does it say what the statue looked like?"

Castle shook his head as he scanned his touch screen. "Not in this article, no."

"I may have something," Ryan exclaimed, the team gathering around his desk. "Check this out. This French Gargoyle was carved in 1347 by an unknown artist, but the interesting part is that its eyes were identical emeralds."

"Talk about your green-eyed monster," Castle quipped. "And point of fact, this is actually a Grotesque. Grotesques are statues of ugly monsters which are merely decorative. A Gargoyle, by definition, is a Grotesque which also serves as a rain spout. The mouth acted as a gutter system that passed water flowing from the rooftop. That's why they're called Gargoyles - due to the gargling sound that came out of them when…" The writer's voice trailed off as he was met by three sets of unimpressed stares. "...annnd you don't care."

"Okay," Beckett stated, returning to the murder board. "Now we know where the jewels came from, but how did Jack get them? And what's that key for? And who killed him?"

"Well, I don't know that," Espo said looking up from a case file, "but I do know that Emma works for Dugong Publishing."

"So what?" Beckett remarked.

"So guess who owns Dugong Publishing?"

"_Who?!_" Castle and Beckett inquired simultaneously.

"Our 60th birthday party media mogul himself - Emerson K. Vanderhall," Esposito replied, slapping the picture of the billionaire up on the whiteboard.

"So our vic works his one out-of-character event as a member of the serving staff for the media mogul for whom his girlfriend works not two weeks before he's killed?!" Beckett exhaled in a single breath.

"That can't be a coincidence," Castle stated.

Beckett nodded in agreement. "It never is."

* * *

**Sorry... gotta pause for another commercial break prior to Act 5.**

**As always, I love to know what you think. (Do you know who the killer is?) ;)**

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**So there you go... Judge away. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**So here we go... Act 5 of 6 in the "episode"...**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"Detective."

Beckett and Castle turned their heads in unison to see Gates at her door. "Sir?"

"Might I have a word?"

The detective simply nodded in acknowledgement as she made her way over to her Captain's office.

_"I wonder what I did this time,"_ Castle muttered under his breath as he sat down in his chair.

Observing the two women through the windows, the author attempted to glean the nature of the conversation with little success. Speed-reader he was. Lip-reader he was not.

Turning his attention to the murder board, he stared at the mosaic of clues, frustrated that he was unable as of yet to come up with a plausible theory. While focusing his attention on the picture of the mysterious key, the phone on Beckett's desk rang. Instinctively, Castle began to reach for the receiver, catching himself as he remembered where he was. He began to curl his fingers as he glanced over at the Captain's office, the phone ringing again. It didn't appear as though the conversation was going to end in the next few seconds.

Making a fist as he grimaced, Castle stared at the phone as it rang a third time. _'Could be important,'_ he reasoned wordlessly as he quickly picked up the receiver. "Detective Beckett's phone."

_"Castle?!" _Lanie exclaimed. "Didn't you learn anything last time you answered Beckett's phone?"

"Apparently n- _OWWWWW_!" Castle wailed as the excruciating pain that began in his ear coursed throughout his body. _"Apples! Apples! Apples!"_

Smirking, Beckett released his ear as she simultaneously removed the handset from his grip.

"It's for you..." he mumbled as he massaged the tender helix of his ear.

"Hey Lanie, what's up?" the detective voiced, eyes locked on Castle as she grinned triumphantly.

"Just got the results back on the contents of your vic's stomach and intestines. They were empty, but he did have a blood-alcohol level of 0.06%, so he had been drinking prior to his murder."

"Okay. Anything else?" Beckett inquired.

"Isn't that enough?" the M.E. sassed.

"Thank you, Lanie," the detective smiled.

_"Mmm-hmmm…" _Lanie hummed as Beckett ended the call.

"So?" Castle muttered, still rubbing his ear.

"So… Jack had been drinking prior to his death, but there was nothing in his stomach."

"Okay…" Castle stated, absorbing the new information. "And what was up with Gates?"

"She wanted to ensure we'd be careful while interviewing Vanderhall. A billionaire media mogul mixed up in a murder could be messy if not handled delicately."

"Indeed…" Castle nodded before adding, "and nice alliteration."

Beckett's eyes rolled as she shook her head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Crossing her arms, she took a few silent moments to look over the murder board while the boys were on their way to talk to Vanderhall.

"Okay…" she began, going over the basics of the case as much for Castle as she was for herself. "Jack Armstrong was found in his tub after being choked and beaten. Thirteen gold coins were found stuffed into various cavities of his body. There's no evidence he'd eaten anything prior to his death - although he had been drinking - yet the residue in his mouth indicates he'd eaten sugar cane… which makes no sense." She paused as she looked over at Castle.

He picked up where she left off. "A week after the theft of some precious gems from a museum exhibit, those same jewels are found in our vic's apartment along with a key to… who knows what. And the girlfriend of the victim is employed by a publishing company owned by the man for whom the victim worked for two weeks ago."

Beckett released a long, frustrated sigh as she gazed at the board. "It's here, Castle. The key to solving this whole thing is staring at me and I just can't see it."

"Well..." he began, "maybe…"

She glanced at her partner, eyes wide in anticipation of a wild story that might lead them to a plausible theory.

"...the emeralds were needed to activate an ancient mythic porthole that is hidden somewhere deep in the jungles of South America. A porthole that controls time and space-"

"You watched _Tomb Raider_ this weekend, didn't you?" she interrupted, sarcasm oozing.

Castle pursed his lips together sheepishly. "Maybe."

Beckett exhaled as she turned her attention back to the white board, perplexed. Her disappointment, however, was short lived as her cell phone chimed.

"Beckett," she stated lifting the phone to her ear.

"Yo. Just finished chatting with Vanderhall. He's not our guy."

"How do you know?"

"He was also at that same business dinner with the vic's girlfriend."

"Damn it," Beckett muttered aloud.

"We did, however, get a list of everyone who was at his 60th birthday party. Figure Armstrong might've worked that gig in order to meet up with one of the guests."

"Nice thinking, Espo," Beckett praised before adding, "Have the girlfriend take a look at the list. Maybe she'll recognize someone."

"As you wish," the Latino replied before he hung up.

As she put her cell back in her pocket, Castle threw himself into his chair. "He wasn't chewing on sugar cane!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry, Castle, you lost me," Beckett replied, taking a seat at her desk.

"The saccharum residue in his mouth. It wasn't from sugar cane," he stated flatly as if she should be able to read his mind. Wide-eyed, she motioned for him to continue. "Saccharum is also the main ingredient in Jamaican Rum. _That's_ what Jack was drinking before he was killed!"

Beckett quickly opened a folder sitting on her desk and skimmed through the file. "There's nothing listed in the CSU report of any rum bottles in the apartment."

"Hmmmm… that's interesting," Castle murmured inquisitively as he glanced at the picture of Captain Jack that was hanging on the murder board. "Why is the rum gone?"

* * *

"Beckett, look at this."

Kate diverted her attention from her computer monitor to the chair beside her desk where, at that moment, her partner was sweeping his fingers across his iPad.

"Did a little research," he began. "Those thirteen gold coins were part of a very specific collection." He turned the iPad so she could see the screen.

"King Victor Emmanuel III?" Beckett queried.

"Apparently, this former Italian King donated his extensive collection of ancient coins to the Italian people prior to his death. Over time, some of the collection was lost, some of it was stolen, and some of the coins ended up in private collections."

"Okay…" Beckett murmured, partially to herself as she studied the screen.

"These particular coins," Castle motioned to the photograph of the thirteen Italian Florins that was posted on the murder board, "were not part of any museum collection, so I figure that Jack either stole them from someone while he was working one of his parties as the Pirate Captain… or…"

"Or?" Beckett turned to face him.

His mind was racing. His eyes dark, deep in thought.

"Or… they were supposed to be a payment. Like an exchange," he theorized aloud. "The emeralds for the coins."

"But how did he manage to get the emeralds in the first place?" Beckett paused. "Armstrong had no priors. No record. The guy was clean."

"Uhhhh… maybe he'd just never been caught?" Castle offered.

The two studied the murder board intensely. They were almost there. They just needed-

_"Security guard!"_ Beckett exclaimed, wheeling around to grab a file from her desk.

"Huh?"

"During his five months of unsteady employment, Armstrong had been a security guard…" she ran her finger down the report, eyes frantically darting across the page. Suddenly, her finger stopped and a huge grin lit up her face. "He was a security guard for six weeks at-"

"Lemme guess," Castle beamed, "at The Metropolitan Museum of Art?"

"Yep," she confirmed, tossing the file back on her desk.

"So Jack gets a job as Museum security," Castle began, "and everything is okay-"

"-but he's still not making quite enough to make ends meet-" Kate added.

"-and all of those priceless antiquities, right there in front of him-"

Beckett inched herself towards the murder board. "-and one day he's approached by a guy-"

"-a guy who makes him an offer he can't refuse-" Castle quipped as he took a step forward.

"-steal the emeralds from the French Grotesque statue that's on display at The Met and get paid a hefty sum-"

"-but Jack has no clue how much they're actually worth-" Castle turned to look at her.

"-and when he finds out the true value of what he's taken-" she whipped her head around to face him, their bodies less than a foot apart.

"-he gets a bit greedy-" he shuffled closer

"-so after downing a few shots of liquid courage-" she leaned towards him.

"-he demands more money-" he grinned, eyes locking with hers

"-and gets killed instead!" she exhaled excitedly.

The electricity jolted between them, the air thick as they stared at each other, eyes dark and lustful - completely aroused as their bodies canted towards each other, unable to resist the intense magnetic pull.

"Yo Beckett, pay dirt!"

Shaken from their trance, faces inches apart, Castle and Beckett tore their eyes from each other to look at the approaching detectives. As the writer cleared his throat, Beckett took an extremely slow, deep breath as she casually sat down at her desk.

"Showed the guest list to the girlfriend," the Latino began. "Nothing popped, but Emma did mention that Armstrong met with some guy about three months ago. Told her it was a job interview. She never got the guy's name, but she still remembers what he looked like 'cuz he freaked her out."

"Enough to get a sketch?" Beckett asked eagerly.

"Way ahead of you," Ryan noted as he slapped the drawing up on the murder board.

"Well..." Castle remarked with a smirk, nodding towards the sketch. "I think I know who the killer is."

* * *

**I figured that was fitting for Castle say prior to the final "commercial break"... ;)**

**One chapter left. Hope to get it written soon.**

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**Thanks to lv2bnsb who posted a Tweet that inspired the "Apples" moment.**

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**As always,**

**There you go... Judge away. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Commercial break is finally over...**

**Act 6**

* * *

"Got something!"

Beckett turned her attention to the tech room as the Irish detective's voice echoed through the bullpen.

"I went through all the names on Vanderhall's guest list," Ryan stated as the team entered the room. "One name stood out. Hunter Booth."

"Seriously?" Castle remarked as the four of them huddled around the smart board. "The guy has two last names."

Beckett rolled her eyes as Espo glared at the writer for a moment. "Says the guy who changed his to be reminiscent of a chess piece," the Latino quipped.

"Touché," Castle relented.

"What do we know about him?" Beckett inquired.

"Not much," Ryan interjected. "Millionaire. Playboy. Oh… and he also happens to be a collector of rare antiquities."

Beckett's eyes lit up at that little tidbit. "Do we have a photo of this guy?"

Ryan touched a button at the top of the screen, bringing up Booth's DMV photo. "Check it out."

"Is it just me," Castle smirked, "or does that guy look identical to the guy Emma described for the sketch artist?"

Beckett's eyes narrowed, her voice cold. "Pick him up."

* * *

The three men silently watched from Observation as Beckett entered the Interrogation room. Esposito crossed his arms as Ryan reached over to turn up the volume of the speaker.

Wordlessly, Beckett sat down in the chair across from her suspect, assessing the expression on Booth's face. It wasn't confusion, but neither was it smug. _'He's got a great poker face, I'll give him that,'_ Castle thought to himself.

Slowly opening the folder that sat on the table in front of her, Beckett's eyes locked with those of the suspect as she gingerly picked up her pen.

"You've had a very interesting life, Mr. Booth," she began, her voice stern, unrelenting. "Exploration of deep caves in the Yucatan... Expeditions to ancient ruins in Greece, India, and Egypt… Crusades through the dense jungles of Africa and South America… Even deep-sea hunting for sunken ships."

"What can I say?" Booth grinned. "Indiana Jones would be proud."

"Too bad he's a fictional character," she retorted.

"Yeah… too bad," he smirked.

"You know something Indiana Jones wouldn't be proud of?" She smiled. "Murder."

Castle smiled as he observed his fiancée back her suspect into the proverbial corner. "Try and get out of this one, buddy," he muttered, the boys grinning as they nodded their heads.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Booth remarked off-handedly.

"You sure about that?" Beckett noted. "Because I'm pretty sure Jack Armstrong would disagree with you."

"Who?" Booth asked innocently.

Beckett slapped a crime scene photo of the victim down on the table in front of Booth.

"I've never seen this guy before," he insisted, pushing the photo away from him.

"Really?" Beckett stated, dropping the sketch of Booth down beside the crime scene photo. "Cuz his girlfriend clearly remembers you meeting with my victim a few months ago." She slid the photos towards him, her eyes cold. "You wanna try again?"

"Okay, so I met the guy once. Big deal."

"The _deal_, Mr. Booth, is that you were at Emerson Vanderhall's 60th birthday party two weeks ago."

"So what," Booth replied smugly.

"So was Mr. Armstrong - he was one of the waiting staff. Several guests at the party clearly recall the two of you having a rather, let's call it - heated - discussion out on the patio mid-evening."

Booth stared at the detective, wide-eyed and quiet. A satisfied grin formed on Castle's face as he watched events unfold from behind the 2-way mirror.

"But that wasn't the only thing the guests remembered. Apparently your attire for the affair was also quite memorable, Mr. Booth." Beckett noted as she looked at the notes in her folder. "White suit, silver shoes…" she paused, "...and a red belt."

Booth's eyes widened.

"Did you know that Mr. Armstrong here was strangled?" Beckett inquired, eyes boring into Booth's. "We found some red fibers on him. What do you think we'll discover when we match those fibers to the ones on your belt?"

Booth's mouth opened slightly, but no words escaped.

"And then there's this," Beckett stately bluntly as she dropped an evidence bag on the table. An evidence bag containing a key.

She noted how Booth's eyes betrayed him, revealing alarm and trepidation, as he stared at the key.

"It's a key we found hidden in Armstrong's bathroom. A key to a storage bay of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The storage bay that recently housed a statue of a Grotesque. A Grotesque that is currently missing its emerald eyes. Emeralds we happened to find hidden in Armstrong's apartment." Beckett slapped another picture on the table as she stood up, leaning on the table, face uncompromising, eyes piercing. "Tell me, Mr. Booth… Did you decide to kill Armstrong because he was unsatisfied with $2600 worth of gold coins as payment for the theft… or were you always planning to get rid of him anyway?"

Booth swallowed sharply, lifting his eyes from the photo array on the table to meet Beckett's stern glare. "I want my lawyer."

Beckett's eyes narrowed as they bore into his. "Of course you do."

* * *

Ryan and Esposito were clearing off the murder board when Gates approached. "So, Detective, did we get a confession?"

"Not exactly, Sir," Beckett replied, looking up from her computer monitor. "Booth isn't talking without a lawyer, but all the evidence is overwhelming. Uniforms found the belt after a thorough search of his house. The lab confirmed that the fibers found on the victim and those of the belt were a match. It was definitely the murder weapon."

"Well done, detective."

The boys made a show of clearing their throats and coughing in a very unsubtle manner.

"Detective..sss," she smirked, shaking her head.

Castle, sitting in his chair, turned his head to look at the Captain, a small but hopeful smile on his lips.

Gates glanced at him for a brief moment, expressionless, before pivoting to return to her office. "I'll inform the Commissioner that we have our man."

Watching Gates close the door behind her, Beckett turned to meet Castle's solemn face.

"She is always going to see me as an annoyance, isn't she?" he sighed.

"Probably," Beckett shrugged.

"Don't let it get to you, Bro," Esposito smirked playfully as he placed a photo in the evidence box. "I've always thought you're annoying."

"Just for that, I'm leaving my Ferrari to Ryan when I die," Castle retorted, as he held out his fingertips for Ryan to feed. Ryan missed his cue, a confused look on his face, as Beckett rolled her eyes, returning her attention to her report.

* * *

"God, that feels good," Beckett moaned.

Castle dug his thumbs into her upper back, working out the knot in her shoulder.

"I just figured that, after this case, you'd want to relax a bit," Castle smiled as he used his knuckles to put some pressure on her vertebrae.

A low groan eked from Beckett as she melted at Castle's every touch. "Wine and back rub while curled up on the couch? Yeahhhhh…" she mumbled as he rubbed her shoulders, "No complaints here."

Castle felt his fiancée go completely lax as he massaged her neck, her head canting back, coming to rest on his shoulder. As her eyelids drooped, he reached forward, removing the glass of wine from her loose grip before she dropped it.

Placing the glass on the table behind the couch, he continued his ministrations along her shoulders and neck, leaning in to kiss the side of her jaw line as his fingers worked their magic. His thumbs kneaded small circles along her spine as his fingertips dance their way along her back muscles, both relaxing her and setting her ablaze.

As his palms and thumbs pressed into her back, sliding towards her underarms, Kate's released a soft grunt.

She felt his hands hesitate as they lifted slightly. "Did I hurt you?"

"_Mmmmmm…_" she moaned happily. "Not at all."

She turned her head up to face him as she leaned her back into his chest. Her lips met his, tender and passionate and aroused, as their mouths danced together in a well-rehearsed tango. He felt her torso melt against his as she lifted a hand to caress the side of his face. Reaching around, his fingers slowly feathered along the side of her jaw as he gently pulled her upper lip into his mouth. His lips then traveled along her cheek towards her neck. She canted her head to the side to allow him better access as he ghosted his lips across her soft flesh.

"So much tension…" he muttered between kisses. "All bottled up…"

"_Mmmmmm…_" she mumbled. "Yeah…"

He continued to paint kisses along her shoulder as one hand snaked itself underneath her shirt, the palm smoothing along the lines of her tight abs.

"All bottled up…" she repeated again in a half-stupor as his fingers inched their way up her supple skin towards her chest.

Suddenly, her eyes shot open. "All bottled up!" she declared as she sat up, turning her body to face his.

Castle shook his head, completely lost. "What?" he squeaked out as he attempted to regulate his heavy breathing.

"The bottle," she repeated insistently.

Castle still wasn't following. "What bottle?"

"The rum bottle," Kate clarified. "That's what was probably used to beat Armstrong!"

"Oh-kay…" Castle nodded.

"So where is it?" she queried. "It wasn't at the victim's apartment."

Beckett grabbed her phone from the coffee table.

"Ryan? I want you and Espo to hit up Booth's place. Yeah… right now. Yeah. You're looking for a rum bottle."

She smirked slightly as she ended the call, tossing the phone back on the table.

"That's what he gets for interrupting us the other night," she smiled as she wrapped her arms around her fiancé's neck.

"Karma's a bitch," Castle muttered seductively as his mouth collided with hers.

* * *

"So... did you find anything?" Beckett asked as hung her coat on the back of her chair.

Espo looked up from his desk and shook his head. "Nothing."

She was taken aback slightly with disbelief. "What?"

"Dunno what to tell you, Beckett," the Latino shrugged. "Maybe he ditched the bottle."

"Besides, we got the belt," Ryan added. "We don't really need the weapon he used to beat Armstrong."

"Yeah," Beckett sighed, "you're right. But I would have liked to have found it."

"Huh..." Castle muttered to himself as he glanced at his phone.

Beckett looked over at her partner. "What?"

"Looks like my book agent also happened to be invited to Vanderhall's birthday party… Paula just posted pictures on her Facebook page. Look at this," he turned the phone to show her the screen.

"Okay, there's Paula beside Vanderhall," Beckett noted. "Who's the other woman in the photo?"

"The tag indicates that it's Vanderhall's wife, Linda… But that's not what is interesting. Take a look behind her," he pointed.

Beckett smiled. "That's a rum bottle."

"But Vanderhall had an alibi for the night of the murder, remember," Ryan remarked.

"True," Castle agreed. "But what about his wife?"

"Dig up everything you can on Linda Vanderhall," Beckett declared as the boys booted up their computers.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the entire team watched as L.T. escorted Linda Vanderhall out of the Interrogation room in cuffs, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Vanderhall's wife?" Gates inquired.

"Yeah," Espo nodded. "Apparently she and Hunter Booth had been having an affair for the past year. They bonded over a love of artifacts and antiquities. Mrs. Vanderhall was also quite the collector."

"She's on the Metropolitan Museum Board of Trustees," Beckett added, arms crossed as she watched Linda Vanderhall march past them towards Holding. "When she found out about that French Collection that was going to be displayed as a temporary exhibit, the temptation of having those identical emeralds for her own private collection was too tempting."

"So she convinced her lover to find some way to steal them. Booth found Armstrong through a job search website. Mrs. Vanderhall used her influence to get Armstrong a position with museum security," Castle continued. "He removed the emeralds from the statue while the collection was still in temporary storage, so nobody noticed that they were even missing until the items were unpacked several weeks later to get ready to be displayed for the temporary exhibition."

"However, when Armstrong discovered the how much the jewels were worth, he wanted more money," Ryan noted. "He hid the emeralds and the key in his apartment for weeks."

"So when Mrs. Vanderhall learned that Armstrong's girlfriend would be at the same business dinner as her husband, she and Booth agreed that that would be the best time to strike," Castle remarked.

Gates turned to glare at Castle.

Realizing what he'd said, the writer quickly held up his hands in defense. "No pun intended."

"Apparently she'd brought the rum from home," Espo stated. "They just planned to get Armstrong drunk thinking that he'd tell them where the emeralds were hidden."

"But when he didn't crack, she got impatient and started to beat him with the bottle. When that didn't work, they tried torturing him by strangling him with Booth's belt. According to Mrs. Vanderhall, they didn't intend to kill Armstrong - but when they realized they had, they dumped him in the bathtub and ran, hoping it would look like he drowned himself accidentally."

Gates nodded, but was still confused by one detail. "But why were the gold coins shoved up his…" She halted before finishing the sentence.

"His booty?" Castle continued with a grin.

"Yes, Mr. Castle. His… booty," the Captain stated flatly as Esposito worked diligently to school his features lest he allow a smirk to escape.

"Booth and Mrs. Vanderhall claim they didn't do that," Ryan explained, drawing Gates' attention away from his partner. "Our best guess is that he didn't have time to hide them before the two arrived, and thinking that they might've wanted the gold coins back, he panicked and shoved them some place he didn't think they'd look."

"So a man is dead because two rich socialites just wanted more pretty rocks to add to their already abundant collection of jewels," Gates remarked shaking her head in disbelief. "Well…" the Captain mumbled as the detectives turned to look at her. She nodded slightly as she turned to head towards her office. "Good job."

"Well," Ryan nodded, "I'm off."

"Jenny?" Espo smirked.

"Yeah," his partner sighed heavily. "She texted about half an hour ago. Has cravings for pickles and peanut butter. Heaven help me if I don't get those to her within the next hour."

"You read anything in _Psychology Today_ about pregnancy cravings?" the Latino teased.

"That they lead to better sex," Ryan scoffed playfully as he grabbed his coat and headed towards the stairs.

Espo released a laugh as he turned towards Beckett and Castle. "Well, have a good night you guys. Don't anything I wouldn't do," he winked, walking away.

"Oh so many possibilities then," Castle called after him as the couple made their way to the elevator. "I hardly know where to start!"

"Oh, I have a few ideas, Castle," Beckett grinned seductively.

The writer turned to face her as they stepped into the empty elevator.

"And they definitely involve some booty," she smiled as she squeezed his ass.

"Yo-ho-ho…" he whispered flirtatiously, his eyes locked on hers, as the elevator doors closed.

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* * *

**That's it. That's all.**

**Big hugs to anyone who went on this ride with me.**

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**Things I learned while writing this fic:**

**- Saccharum is both sugar cane and Jamaican rum**

**- Pirate puns are awesome!**

**- 5-carat emeralds are worth a lot more than I anticipated.**

**- All Gargoyles are Grotesques... but not all Grotesques are Gargoyles :)**

**- Balancing a case with banter with romance with bromance with sass… not an easy task**

**- Writing a case is ****_really_**** challenging! (I humbly bow at the feet of the****_ Castle_**** writers)**

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**To the Guest** **who reviewed that I should apply to write for the show, that was one of the kindest and most flattering things anyone has said to me. Thank you. **(But_ I'm completely comfortable being a ... ... ...)_ ** :)**

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**To my Twitter followers for shaking those pom-poms, you're awesome.**

**I've never had 100 reviews for a fic before... just realized how close I am. Huge thanks to anyone who reviewed. Your support and feedback has meant a lot to me - as you know. :D**

* * *

_RL is getting a bit crazy for me right now..._

_And because we didn't get the Triple-Crown at last's year's People's Choice Awards, I'll be focusing my attention on voting like crazy for the next few months..._

_So a few one-shots might materialize, but probably not much until the voting closes._

* * *

**And as always...**

**There you go... Judge away. :D**


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